


The Sweetest Music

by afteriwake



Series: Molly Madness Month - March 2018 [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Car Accidents, Comatose Molly Hooper's Mother, Comforting Molly Hooper's Uncle, Dead People, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Secrets, Injured Character, London Conservatory of Music, Music Academy, Musicians, POV Molly Hooper, Paralysis, Returning Home, Sad with a Happy Ending, Teen Meena, Teen Molly Hooper, Teen Romance, Teen Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-26 20:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13865883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: It seems as though in one fell swoop everything Molly Hooper knows is taken away from her: her education, her mother, her home. She tries to lose herself in her music but finds it harder than ever before. But perhaps all is not lost, as her new life provides her more than she ever expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a fic towards my milestone of 1,000 Sherlock-centric fics that was requested by **sherlokid7** , who wanted a Sherlolly fic that was " _a teenlock where they go to a music high school or college and have to work together(like step up style) for an assignment_."

Why on earth had she ever decided to become a jazz pianist?

She hurried through the corridors of her school to get to the practice rooms to make sure she got the room with the piano that wasn’t a smidge out of tune. For a prestigious university, the equipment was rather poorly maintained, and of the three pianos in the practice rooms, only one was perfect in tune and perfectly working. Though she supposed if she got the untuned piano it would be better than having the one where the C key was broken…

Though why she cared so much was beyond her. 

She had been excited to get into “Harmony High,” the unofficial name for LaCosta Music Conservatory in Los Angeles before she was supposed to leave primary school. It had been an adventure being nearly halfway across the world with so many other talented musicians, but the sheen had quickly worn off. Most of her fellow students were complete twats who would sell their soul for a higher vocal range or better talent on their instrument.

And then her father had gotten sick. She had gone back to England for the summer and saw him rapidly decline, and he had died shortly after she had returned to Los Angeles. She didn’t even have a chance to properly mourn before she was tossed back into her rigorous studies, and while she had used it to cope now...now she didn’t care.

“Molly!” She stopped in her tracks as her instructor came running towards her. “Molly, you need to come with me.”

“Mrs. Winston, what’s going on?” she asked.

“There was an accident,” she said, huffing out the words as she went to catch her breath. “Your mother...”

Fear gripped her as she heard just that bit. “Is she dead?”

“No, but she needs you. Your uncle has arranged for a flight from LAX to LaGuardia and then a connecting flight to London. She’s currently at King's College and it’s...not good.” Mrs. Winston reached over for her hand in a symbol of comfort. “They aren’t sure whether she’s only temporarily paralyzed, or it’s permanent. There’s too much swelling, according to your uncle.”

Molly nodded numbly, her mind whirring. While she had always been closer to her dad than her mum, her mum had been a huge supporter and was all she had left, seeing as how she was an only child. “My studies...” she said weakly.

“We’re transferring you to the London Conservatory of Music,” Mrs. Winston said. “A good friend of mine, Martha Hudson, teaches piano to select students and she has had a rather colorful past as a jazz pianist in New Orleans for a time. I think she’ll be able to continue your education well enough, perhaps even better than me.”

Molly nodded. “How long do I have?”

“Your flight leaves tomorrow. You and your mother are going to stay with your uncle in London once she’s able to leave the hospital.” Molly relaxed a bit. She wasn’t particularly close to her Uncle Douglas, but he wasn’t a bad man. If he was offering to take in her and her mother in his place in London, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. He wasn’t even her mother’s brother, simply her brother-in-law, but this showed he cared. Hopefully, they could all live together well enough. 

But first, she needed to make sure her mum was okay. She squeezed Mrs. Winston’s hand. “Thank you. I’ll call my uncle and find out more.”

“You and your family will be in my thoughts,” Mrs. Winston said, giving her a sympathetic smile. When they let go of each other’s hand, Molly turned towards her dorm room and the phone she knew was there. This was just so unfair. Not having to leave; she was glad to have a reason to go back to England. But this was not the reason she wanted. Her mother deserved a better life than being a widow stuck in a wheelchair for potentially the rest of her life. Her mother had been a dancer in her youth, a member of some rather prestigious ballet company as the prima ballerina, and never being able to dance again…

It wasn’t fair. But there was a chance it wasn’t permanent, so she had to hold on to that.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Best not to dwell on any sour thoughts until she got to her dorm and found out more facts. Once she did that, then she could pack and get ready to go home and whatever future awaited her there.


	2. Chapter 2

Douglas Hooper didn’t look anything at all like her father, which was interesting in that they had been fraternal twins. She had thought there’d be at least some similarity, but where her father had been a skinny twig of a man with a dancer’s physique, her uncle was round and red-faced and taller than her father had been. She knew from pictures of her grandparents that her father had taken after his mum and her uncle their father, but she’d been born after both had died so she had no way of knowing if they just took after them in looks or more.

She was surprised her Uncle Douglas had come to meet her flight; he was a rather important businessman of some sort, always on the go. Though he had loved her family; it had been with his help that she had gotten a better piano at her home in Bozeat when she was young, and her uncle had been around far more than her aunt, their sister, had been when her dad was sick. He had seemed a good and kind man who she had been told couldn’t have children of his own and chose to dote on his nieces and nephews even if he couldn’t give them a lot of his time.

But she had expected a driver of some sort, or to have to take a cab or the Tube. She knew where her uncle lived; in the brief time that her father had been hospitalized in London, they had stayed with him, and then again when her father’s funeral was held and he was buried in the family plot. So she could get there if needed, but to have someone there for her was an unexpected and welcome surprise.

“Mols,” he said, giving her a warm smile and opening his arms for a hug. She put her arms around him as much as she could, grateful for the comfort. That had been one thing that had sorely been lacking from the moment she’d been told about the accident; she had no friends at Harmony High and in fact, her roommate hadn’t even waited for her to finish packing her things before she began rearranging the room. She vividly hoped she didn’t have to have any roommates for at least a little, partly because of her past experience and partly…

“Why am I still going to school?” she asked, pulling away. “Shouldn’t I be there to help with Mum?”

“I’m going to do that,” her uncle said with a smile. “We’ll have a nurse on hand and I’ll do my work from home. Your mother and I decided, should anything happen to her before you were an adult, you’d continue your studies. We just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.”

“What happened?” Molly asked as they made their way to claim her baggage.

“She was hit by a car while she was here in London finalizing some affairs of your father’s,” he said. “The car sped off and the driver hasn’t been caught yet, but there were good Samaritans on the scene and they made sure an ambulance came swiftly and your mother was well looked after. There’s a description of the car, one of those illegal cabs that operate to avoid the taxes, but not of the driver, and not much effort is being made.”

“That’s not fair,” she said.

“I have a friend who works for the Yard and he’s going to try and get the case. He was a friend of your dad’s, too, and he feels he owes your mum. It’s what Albert would have wanted.” He tilted his head slightly as he looked at her. “I heard strings were pulled to get Martha as your teacher.”

She frowned. “Did you go to the Conservatory, Uncle Douglas?”

He nodded. “I was a violinist. Not nearly as good as you are as a pianist...didn’t have the passion. But Martha was there when I was there and she used to give private concerts to select students. I got to sit in on a few myself. You’ve got a treat, but she’s a taskmistress.”

“At least I’ll get an education,” she grumbled.

“They weren’t teaching you in California?”

“Well, they were, but not well. Most of the pianists were classical musicians. They weren’t well-prepared for a jazz pianist.”

“Then maybe it’s best you’re home,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Before we get you settled, let’s stop in to see your mum. She was awake earlier today and we might be able to catch her while she’s awake again.”

Molly nodded and then sank into silence. She wasn’t home, not really, but at least it would be something better than what she’d had...she hoped.


	3. Chapter 3

Her mum had looked so small and frail lying in the hospital bed. The doctor went over with her what her uncle had told her and more. The expectation was when she woke up from the medically induced coma they had put her in, she would be paralyzed from the waist down due to a broken back; since the spinal cord hadn’t been severed, it could be temporary, but it might also be a permanent paralysis. That was the only bit of good news she saw because there was only a 50/50 chance her mother would be able to walk as well as she had before. But her uncle had said once she was released from the hospital she would have the best in home care she could get.

They left the hospital in silence before Molly began to rage in the car. “It’s not fair! She loses Dad, now she loses the chance to walk and dance and all that, we lost _everything_!” She hadn’t meant to have let loose now but it had been bottled up since she was told in California and it just washed over her in an instant how unfair all of this had become.

“If she is paralyzed permanently, we’ll deal with that as it comes. She still has more surgeries to undergo. But even if she is, your mother will persevere. She’s a strong woman. And you are strong too, don’t forget it.” He wiped her tears away and pulled her into an embrace. “She’s alive, remember that. Always be thankful she lived when it could have been worse.”

She nodded against him, tears streaming down her cheeks. She knew she shouldn’t feel the way she did, it was rotten and immature and selfish but she did. At least her uncle was letting her get it all out now in the privacy of the car instead of it happening in public. She had the feeling this would be the worst of the crying jags, but it wouldn’t be the last.

They eventually got to his home and she went in, looking around. It had seemed he was already making changes to make it wheelchair accessible; she could see people inside doing construction on the ground floor. “Your mum will stay down here and we’re going to make as much of my home open space as possible. It might be a bit loud but we moved the piano upstairs so the sound won’t interfere as much.”

She felt humbled at the sight and then nodded. “Am I in the same room I was in before?” she asked.

“If you want to. You can stay in any room you like,” he said. “Even your dad’s old room. I don’t think our parents changed it after he left, but I haven’t really gone up there to look.”

Molly perked up. She knew her father’s family had almost all basically disowned him when he’d gone off to Paris to dance. While her whole family was musically and artistically inclined, her grandparents had thought it unseemly for their son to be a ballet dancer. He had chosen his passion over his parents and lost his inheritance when they died. Her family had done well, but never as well as her aunt and uncle had. But she hadn’t realized this was her father’s childhood home; all she had known was it was her uncle’s.

“He had the whole third floor to himself because he’d been a painter as well as a dancer. We can have the piano moved into his studio, which is attached to the room.” Her uncle smiled. “It’s a bit more stairs to deal with every day, but perhaps...well, it might be what your father wanted.”

“I would like that,” she said. “Thank you.”

“I have to check in on the contractor but I’ll bring up linens for you if it’s to your liking.” He gave her a smile. “Go see if you’d like to stay there.”

She nodded and then made her way up the stairs. The last time she had been there she had stayed in her aunt’s bedroom while her parents had stayed downstairs. She knew there was a room or set of rooms at the top of the house but she had been so concerned about her father she had never asked to explore, and her father had never said he grew up there. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to be reminded but there was no other choice.

She never realized how little she knew about her family at all, really, until today.

When she got to the floor she found it had no door and was just one open space, rather like an attic. There were paintings and sketches all over, but boxes of things too. Perhaps her grandparents had used it for storage and just not cared to get rid of her father’s things. She walked around, trying to picture where she would want things if this was to be her home for the time being, and as she visualized finding frames for her father’s sketches and paintings she realized that yes, she very much wanted to stay here, and it felt as though a hole in her heart was slowly filling up. Now, it just depended on how things went with her mother, but at least she had a bit of her father back.


	4. Chapter 4

Her uncle brought up the linens and then walked around the room in wonder. “He was really quite talented,” he said as he smiled, looking over what she imagined had been a portrait of her uncle when he was younger. “May I have this one?”

“They aren’t mine to give,” she said.

“I think they should be,” he said. “Your father would have wanted someone who cared a great deal about him to have these. And you do care a great deal about your father, so they’ll be best in your hands.” He moved and pointed to another picture. “That’s your mother when she was sixteen.”

“Dad knew Mum when they were young?”

“Oh, we all grew up together. Except for your aunt; she was seven years older than me and nine years older than your father. By the time we got interesting, she had already left home to pursue her stage acting career in New York. She’s more...aloof, I suppose.” He ran a finger over the drawing. “Your mum lived down the street. I can show you her childhood home later if you’d like. But she lived near here and it was because of her dancing that your father took it up. Our parents thought once he had gotten your mum’s attention he would stop, but when he was nineteen they ran away to Paris and the rest...”

“The rest what?” Molly asked, sitting on the bed.

“They never talked about their past?” he asked, confused.

“Not really,” she said. “They were incredibly proud when I showed signs at being good at piano, and there were some albums...I have no idea what’s happened to any of our things at home. I have no idea where they are.”

Her Uncle was quiet for a moment before joining her on the bed. “We can drive to your home and get things. I know you don’t want to stay here, or at least as long as you can go home, but there should be reminders of home here, too. If your mum has to be here for a long time while she recovers, I think she’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Molly nodded. “Yes.”

“Then we’ll get as much as we can bring back. I’ll get us a trailer if needed. But you can stay here as long as you want to. If you want to go back home instead of continuing in music, that’s always an option you know.”

“But...I like the piano,” she said. “I like making music that makes people happy. I think that’s why I got into jazz piano. Because people seem happier when they listen to jazz.”

He gave her a wide smile and then hugged her. “You are so much like your father. Then we’ll get a trailer and this weekend we’ll go and get the things you think your mum would want, and things of yours.” He let go of her. “This room doesn’t have much in the way of personalization, it seems. We can get you some things to make it yours and then on Monday you’ll start at the conservatory and we’ll see how it goes from there. Alright?”

Molly nodded, leaning into him. “That sounds like a good plan, Uncle Douglas.”

“Good. Put the linens on the bed and then we’ll go somewhere for dinner while they keep working. I imagine airline food is still ghastly, so we’ll go anywhere you want.”

“Thank you,” she said. He got up off the bed and then left the room, and she looked around. If she never got to go home...well, there could be worse places to live. At least here there was the connection to her family history she’d never really had. She looked at the picture of her mum and decided the first picture to be framed would be that one, and she’d take it to the hospital for when she woke up. It’d be nice to have something of her dad’s there for her to see, she thought, and then it could stay downstairs with her when she came to her uncle’s home. And he would get the picture of himself, of course.

But the rest? She’d find good places for them all.


End file.
